


Faultless Stars

by Kaittomlin (orphan_account)



Category: The Fault in Our Stars - John Green
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:00:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4161384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Kaittomlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fault in our stars, in Augustus pov.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

In the beginning of my freshman year in High School, i was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma.

I found out on a warm autumn day, when the leaves had just began to change color in Indianapolis. I was playing basketball, of all things, in my gym class, when my mom walked in the room, her face tear stained. The test results had come back positive. I remembered sinking to my knees. And crying, students watching as my mom took me from class. None of them knowing i wouldn't be healthy enough to return to school for a couple months. 

Within the next two months, I would undergo chemotherapy, radiation, and be confined to the prison known as my hospital bed. 

But this story isnt about the kid who lost his leg when his friends were losing their virginity. This is the story of the boy, who lived seventeen years, and within the last little bit, fell in love with the most beautiful girl. Hazel Grace.

I met Hazel Grace inside the metaphorical heart of Jesus. Thanks to my friend Isaac, who had convinced me to tag along. 

Although, Hazel would say different, my first glimpse of her was not a good one. Originally, i had mistaken her for my dead girlfriend, Caroline was not exactly  the kind of person i wanted to be haunted by.

But Hazel, was different. I could spend my entire life with her, happily. 

And little did i know, that i would in fact spend the remainder of my life with her.

 

.......

 

I sat on the couch with my best friend Isaac, playing counterinsurgence 2 when Isacs mom came down stairs, abruptly turning of our game and undoubtedly killing 100's of fictional civilians. She looked at Isaac expectantly. 

"What day is today?" His mother asked.

"Wednesday. "Isaac said with a huff.

"And what do you do every Wednesday ? " His mom asked. 

"Hump." Isaac said under his breath. I elbowed him in the side.

"Isaac you promised me you would be attending support group today." Isaac's mom said.

Isaac didn't care to argue. Instead he invited me to accompany him to the heart of Jesus where we would discuss the battle of cancer with other unfortunate teenage kids.

Once we arrived in Jesus's heart we were offered an array of lemonades and cookies before taking a seat on a child size plastic chair. I looked up, and noticed a girl who was making contact with Isaac through sighs, a girl who looked a lot like my dead girlfriend. 

I tried blinking a few times to see if i was imagining things before asking Isaac if she was a regular. He nodded and told me he would introduce me to her later.

 I was not actually paying attention to the things which were said in the meeting. I didn't even pay attention when i was asked to introduce myself, instead i told my name and diagnosis in a robotic tone, I paid no attention until the leader of the group, a ball-less man named Patrick asked me to share my fears.

"My fears?" I asked repeating his command.  He nodded.

What do i fear? I wondered. I feared geese. Flying. 

Finally i spat out my biggest  fear: "oblivion" 

The girl resembling my dead girlfriend rose her hand. 

"There will come a time," she said, "when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this"She gestured encompassingly—"will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that's what everyone else does."

Holy shit that was hot.

After the session had ended with a general prayer, Isaac took me to meet the girl i was already quite fond of. We walked across the floor, and i tried my hardest to hide my limp.

"Augustus, this is Hazel. Hazel this is Augustus. " Isaac said and then the three of us walked to the refreshment table.

"Whats your full name?" I asked she looked at me unsure, but then she smiled,

"Hazel Grace Lancaster. " Hazel Grace said.

I admired her beauty for a little while. From her choppy brown hair, to the dark brown, almost black eyes. Just her in general. 

Isaac had said her name was rather bleak, lacking all interest. But i love her name, its as beautiful as she is. 

Isaac looked at me with a smirk before whispering that Hazel has a nice ass.

"Ill say." I said hoping to be quiwt enough that she couldn't hear me.

I wanted Hazel to like me. I wanted to hear her laugh. So i began trying to think of something to amuse her, but i live a nerdy life, and i couldn't be sure we could connect on anything other than cancer. So i influenced Isaac to tell her about what had happened to him at clinic. 

While Isaac talked i observed Hazel. Her laugh was precious. 

Isaac had to meet his long term girlfriend Monica outside so we all went upstairs. 

Isaac is going blind. So he has to look at Mon while he still can.

"Literally." I said after realizing we were actually in the heart of Jesus. 

Hazel stared at me clinically. 

"Why are you looking at me like that? "She asked.

I gave her my legendary half smile. "Because you are beautiful. I enjoy looking at beautiful people and i decided a while ago not to deny myself the simplr pleasures of existence. I mean, particularly given that as you so deliciously pointed out, all of this will end in oblivion and everything. "

We got outside and witnessed Isaac caressing Monica's breasts as they muttered always back and forth to one another. I guess he has the right to tke advantage of his vision while he still has it, and if boobs are what he wants to see than so be it.  

I wonder what it feels like to get close enough to a girl that she lets you take advantage of her like that. I guess that is one way i am very different from Isaac, ive never found pleasure in using girls to that advantage. I just dont agree in playing with them as if they are toys. I want to treat a girl more like my best friend. Or my partner in crime. I want to be her woody and she can be my buzz lightyear. We can go from infinity to beyond together. 

I want to go from infinity to beyond with Hazel.

I had made some small talk by this point. Until i realized Hazels celebrity doppelganger. 

"Your like a millennial Natalie Portman. Like V for Vendetta Natalie Portman. " I said. And she looked at me unamused.

"Ive never seen that." Hazel said blatantly. 

"Really?!? Pixie haired gorgeous girl dislikes authority and can't help but fall for a guy she knows is trouble? Its your autobiography so far as i can tell." I didn't mean i was a troublesome guy. I know im not. I guess i didn't know exactly what i meant by it.

"We should watch it." I said.

"Like next week?" Hazel Grace asked 

"No. Like now. My house. " I said.

After only a bit of persuasion, and permission from Mrs. Lancaster, Hazel Grace was sitting shotgun in my car.


	2. Trophies

I had driven Hazel to my house before she asked about my lack of leg. I had tried to hide the limp, but apparently im just not the best actor.

I told her about the touch of cancer from when i was younger.She asked a couple of questions pertaining to the trophies which lined the shelf of my bedroom. 

I didn't answer her when she asked if i ever missed my leg. I dont really think she meant to ask. 

In reality, I would give anything to have that half of my leg back, to be able to drive as if im not intoxicated. To be able to feel. To run. To shoot one more basketball. With that leg, left my freedom and any chance of me ever losing my virginity. 

I glanced at the autographed balls and posters in my bedroom and began to wonder what it would have been like to grow up completely healthy. To be able to attend prom with my friends instead of sitting in my bathroom shaving off the last few strands of hair left on my head.

I walked over to the other side of my room and grabbed V for Vendetta. I turned on my tv before my parents intervened.  Apparently they dont trust me having a random girl in my basement. 

So we went upstairs. 

I sat  on my sofa next to Hazel Grace. My parents were watching us from the kitchen. A part of me wondered if they were waiting for me to kiss Hazel. The other part of me wondered if they ever thought i would kiss a girl, or get married, or even move out of their basement. 

Do they even think i will live? 

I looked at Hazel, her eyelids drooping out of boredom. Admittedly, this movie kind of sucks.

Scratch that. It really sucks.

Hazel admitted she hated the movie. I  dont blame her. Then my parents walked into the room.

"Will you introduce us to your friend? ' My dad asked. 

"Dad,this is Hazel Grace ." I said.

"Just Hazel." Hazel said

"Well hello Just Hazel." My mom smirked. .

"i cnt believe our little Gus has found a girlfriend. " My dad said amused. 

"Im not his girlfriend. " Hazel said

Yet. 

" So do you have siblings? " Hazel Grace asked.

I had been distracted at that moment by the life i used to live. My future was painted brightly on the canvas of life, but then a couple aches and pains later and someone took whiteout to my future, painting cancer in big bold letters where the NBA undoubtedly had been.

I replied back with a confused "Huh? "

"You said that thing about watching kids play. ." Hazel reminded me.

"Oh yeah, no. I have nephews, from my half sisters but they're older.-

at that precise moment it occured to me that i in fact did not no how old my own half sisters are.

"Dad! " I yelled and he ran inside as if it were an emergency. "How old are Julie and Martha? "

He let out a relieved exhale. 

"28, Gus. " He said and then he left.

"They're like 28 ,"i smiled. " They both live in Chicago, married to some fancy lawyer dudes. Or maybe banker dudes. I cant remember. Do you have siblings? " I asked

So whatst's your story?" I asked, sitting down next to hazel at  safe distance. 

"I already told you my story. I was diagnosed- 

I abruptly cut hazel off, not wanting to hear about more cancer.

"Not your cancer story. Your real story. Interests, hobbies, weird fetishes, etcetera. "

"Um" was all Hazel said. 

"Dont tell me you are one of those people who literally becomes their disease. I know so many people like that. Its disheartening, like cancer is in the growth business right? Its ib the taking-people-over business. But please tell me you havent let it succeed prematurely  ." I said remembering Caroline, cancer was all she ever talked about. I couldn't have a conversation with her without the topic of cancer coming into our discussion. 

it seemed to me that Hazel, really wasn't sure who she was. My thought was confirmed when she added

"I am really quite un-extraordinary. "

"I reject that out of hand" i said, "Think of something you like. The first thing that comes to mind."

Hazel replied nerdily with Reading. I really wasn't expecting that response from her. But i guess all cancer patients take up that hobby sooner or lyer as they wait for someone to either pronounce them cured or tell their family they are dead.

"What do you read?" I asked 

"Everything. From like hideous romance to pretentious fiction to poetry. Whatever. " Hazel said.

"Do you write poetry too? " I asked interested. 

"No i don't write. " Hazel said.

She may likely be the only kid in America tht prefers reading poetry to writing it.

"Have you read any good books lately? " i asked.

"I guess." She said

"What was it?"

Once again. Hazel only replued with "um" 

"An imperial affliction. Its by Peter Van Houten" Hazel finally admitted. 

"Does it feature Zombies? " I asked 

It didnt.

"Stormtroopers?"

None.

"Irs not that kind of book. " Hazel said.

It cant be that great without zombies. But i wanted to connect with Hazel. Share something with her. So i agreed to read the poor excuse of a novel.

but she would have to read my book.

The price of dawn. A video game to book adaptation. 

"Are you cold?  I asked after touching her hand with my own

"No. Just underoxygenated."Hazel said.

"I love it when you talk medical to me." I smirked.

I stood and helped her upstairs, holding her hand all the way up.

When it came time for hazel to leave, my father met her at our front door, which had the saying "Every day is a good day to be alive, whether the sun is shining or not" I remembered my mom painting that encouragement on the door the day before my first chemo treatment in 9th grade. I never agreed with it, because really? A day of chemo is a difficult day to find positive.

I spent that evening sprawled across my bed, reading An Imperial Affliction. And although I spent plenty of time in my life focusing on cancer and thinking about it, I never thought about it the way Anna does. I always thought that I was being punished with cancer. That I had done something so irreparably wrong that I deserved to get sick, and nearly meet my death. I thought that maybe if I had done something different,  than maybe I would never have gotten sick. Maybe I would be in line for the NBA. Or at least I would still have my leg.

Anna views cancer as a simple way that nature must uncreate people. Without disease, and suffering, surely the world would become overpopulated. Cancer is just a failed result in mutation and everything must die within time, and some must simply die sooner and harsher than others. I understand that, and that maybe sometimes it is time for specific people to escape personhood. 

  

I simply don't think that anyone deserves to go through cancer, and especially not die from it.

Speaking of biting it from cancer, there is this common misconception, that kids die so others might learn something from their suffering. That "everything happens for a reason". As if a four year old needed to die so that their aunt may learn to be more caring. Bullshit. People have been teaching themselves common qualities since the beginning of time. Since long before cancer.  Cancer doesn't have to happen. It just does.

I particularly like the way Anna thinks. It says in like chapter seven when Anna is talking about her dead dad, that sometimes you don't realize how much you love someone until they are gone forever. She says for example,  you walk around each day, completely unappreciative of your pinky toe. But if your pinky toe was cut off tomorrow,  you would realize how off balance your life is without it.

I continued reading the book, enthralled in how some middle aged writer could so perfectly understand what it is like to be dying, and be on deaths shores waiting to drown, but then suddenly find the strength to survive and not die.

I thought Anna understood what  i felt perfectly right up until the very last page, after I had grown an attachment to her one eyed mom, the tulip man and Sissyphus the hamster. When suddenly the page ended mid sentence, and there were no more sentences to follow. 

I mean I get the metaphorical resonance about how life ends in the middle of a sentence or whatever. But I passionately believe a writer owes, it to their reader to end the freaking book in a way that at least provides the reader with some satisfaction. 

I feel as though by reading this, my pinky toe has been ripped from me throwing off the balance of my lfe.

Personally, i know losing half a leg throws off a lot of balance in life. Not just like walking, obviously losing a leg throws off literal balance. But do you know how freaking awkward it is to have one leg around the common girl? It's like, you meet this chick at the library or whatever, and she has a great personality, and no cancer, and she's probably damn beautiful. So you talk, and get to know each other and it's all going great.

And eventually you get her into bed. But then, and I know this from past experience, you take off your pants, and until now she has no idea about your lack of leg, because it shouldn't matter right? But it does matter to her.

At first she just stares at the stump, which tapers off just above where your knee should be. She might try to poke you. And then she puts her clothes back on, and runs away before you even have a chance to unwrap the condom.

And that my friend is why I, the seventeen year old with one leg, will probably die a virgin. Lacking a leg does have its perks. For example, only having one leg means I will only ever have to trim five toenails. 

I was busy trimming those five toenails when Isaac called me inaudibly screaming. All I could comprehend was Monica and Always. So I insisted he just come over.  

I concentrated on texting Hazel in the time between Isaac arriving at my house. I asked if my book was missing the last few pages before Isaac came into my room, face swollen and tear stained.


	3. Always means Always

Isaac sat down on my unmade bed, tears streaming down his sad little face. I sat down next to him on my bed and wrap my arm around his shoulders. 

"What's going on buddy?"  
Inaudible sniffles and mumbling persues.  
"Is everything okay with you and Monica? " I asked trying to get him to talk.  
Insert wailing.

"If it helps, I always thought she was a bitch."

"Don't say that word." Isaac demands.   
"Bitch?" I clarified.  
"No. She is a Bitch. Dont. say always."

"He speaks! " I proclaimed joyously and then Isaac promptly elbowed my ribs.

"Have I ever told you that I think your a total bastard?" Isaac asked insultingly.

"Yes sir. But then again you sir, put the Ass in Sass. So what happened with Monica?" I asked

"She dumped me. She said she wasn't feeling sparks between us anymore, and she would have felt guilty dumping a fully blind guy so she took the opportunity to dump me whilst I am still only half blind. She said she couldn't handle the whole cancer thing, and then she went on and on about how hard it is to have a handicapped boyfriend. Then I flipped her off and went and had an emotional breakdown in my car."

"She actually said it was hard having a handicapped boyfriend? " I asked astonished. 

Isaac nodded.

In the American language,  Always is defined as an infinitely long time. Time that is not affected by circumstance, nor disease, unaffected by all, because nothing can stop the infinites of time.

It seems as though Monica forgot that always meant always to Isaac. It didn't just mean until it no longer is convenient to love and be seen with him. 

"Do you want to play counterinsurgence?" Isaac asked through tears which he now muffled by stuffing a pillow over his face. I laughed and then set up the L shaped chairs in front of my flat screen TV, not bothering to put the game in because I know it is the only game I ever play.

This particular game of counterinsurgence was abnormally violent. While normally Isaac focused on saving the imaginary civilians, today he killed everything and everyone who crossed his fictional path. I tried my best as player two to save and prevent certain casualties by safe guarding the civilians and keeping them away from Isaac so that I could complete the objective by myself,  but in the end the game was a failed mission. 

During the second round of gaming, Isaac chose to play the role of hero, and did anything and everything in his fictional power to save the lives of the best unknowing civilians, while others he just killed or sacrificed because according to Isaac, 1 in 20 of all kids die before adulthood anyway, so he was just speed in up the inevitable process in which we escape from personhood. 

That's where the game took a depressing turn for me. You see, when you get sick, and have to spend time in the ped ward, you meet a lot of other sick kids. Obviously not all of them survive, but some of the kids who escape personhood at a young age seem to be the kids who should deserve to live forever. On the contrary, not every kid in the ped ward is angellic, the ward has its fair share of conceded jerks, but we as a society forgive them, because they are at risk of dying.

This is why I have made it my mission to avoid becoming an asshole. But I obviously don't always care to succeed with that mission, similar to the way Isaac doesn't care about saving all fictional civilians because he has reached the depths of romantic despair, while Monica failed her mission of keeping the promise of always, which was simply too big of a promise to make. 

"Am I ugly?" Isaac asked concerned

"Of course not." I said.

"Do my feet stink?" Isaac asked as he raised his foot to my nose suddenly. 

I gagged.

"So she either doesn't want to deal with having a blind boy for a bitch, or she hates the fact that your feet stink." I said, understandably at the wrong time. Isaac began to howl in misery, and just as my ears became as broken as Hazel's lungs, I heard light footsteps and the thudding of her oxygen br>

azelazel grace%3 grace?" I asked desperately hoping it was her. She emerged from the stairs and gave a curt nod.

"Isaac,  Hazel from support group is coming downstairs. Hazel, a gentle reminder that Isaac is in the midst of a psychotic episode." 

Hazel walked in front of Isaac and i.

"How are you Hazel?" I asked.

"I'm okay." She said. "Isaac?" She asked, but he was busily enthralled with counterinsurgence.

Hazel Grace was wearing a well worn yellow dress, that just barely passed her knees. 

"You look nice Hazel Grace. You know most girls have this complex about only wearing dresses on formal occasions. But I  like a woman who says, you know, I'm going over to see a boy whose connection to the sense of sight itself is wavering, a boy who is having a romantically influenced mental breakdown,  and gosh darn it I'm going to wear a dress for him. "

I said this trying to get Isaac to acknowledge Hazel, although I strongly hoped she had in fact worn that dress for me, rather than for Isaac. 

"And yet, Isaac won't even so much as glance over at me. Too in love with Monica I suppose. " 

Hazel's statement, resulted in a catastrophic sob erupting from Isaacs lips.

"Bit of a touchy subject" I hinted at Hazel.

At this point in counterinsurgence,  I don't think Isaac was really paying attention to the game.  He just led us into the middle of enemy territory, unarmed. 

"Isaac,  I don't know about you, but I have a vague sense that we are outnumbered. " I looked back to Hazel. "Isaac and Monica are no longer a growing concern. But he doesn't want to talk about it. He just wants to play counterinsurgence 2."

"Fair enough. " Hazel smirked. 

"Isaac, I feel a growing concern about our position. If you agree,  head over to that power station and I will cover you."

"Anyway," i said to Hazel, "it doesn't hurt to talk to him.. especially if you have any sage words of feminine advice..." I said

Isaac shot every enemy in our path, and Hazel watched eagerly as he shot an animated Mexican from behind a pickup truck I'm front of the school. 

"I actually think his response is probably appropriate. " Hazel insisted.

I nodded. "Pain demands to be felt. " Hazel smiled as she noticed my clever quote from AIA. Isaac then ran behind a tool shed. "You sure there's no one behind us?" I asked uncertainly to Isaac. 

Moments later,  tracer bullets began whizzing past us. "Oh goddammit Isaac. I don't mean to criticize you in your moment of great weakness,  but you allowed us to be out flanked, and now there is nothing between those terrorists and the school."

Isaac took off running through the fire to a narrow alleyway.

"You could go over the bridge and circle back." Hazel suggested. 

"Sadly, the bridge is already under insurgent control due to questionable strategizing by my bereft cohort."

"Me?" Isaac said, his voice breathy. "Me?! You're the one who suggested we hole up in the freaking power station! " Isaac yelled.

I smiled. " I knew you could talk buddy. Now let's go save some fictional school children. "

Together,  we ran down the alleyway, firing and hiding at all the right moments, until we reached the single room schoolhouse. We crouched behind a cement wall and began shooting down one enemy at a time.

"Why do they want to get into the school? " Hazel asked.

"They want the kids as hostages. " I answered. 

"Get it get it get it" Isaac and I chanted at the game. 

"Grenade! Grenade!" I shouted as a little grenade rolled in front of the schoolhouse door.

Isaac dropped his controller in dissapointment.  "If the bastards can't take hostages, they just kill them and claim we did it."

I jumped out from the wall and raced toward the school. "Cover me!" I shouted at Isaac, Isaac fumbled the controller and then started firing while the bullets rained down on Max Mayhem, shot me once then twice,  but still I ran. With a final flurry of effort,  I dove atop the grenade,  which ultimately killed Max Mayhem but "saved the kids."

"Temporarily. " Hazel pointed out. 

"All salvation is temporary. I bought them a minute, maybe that's the minute that buys them an hour, which is the hour that buys them a year. No one is going to buy them forever Hazel Grace, but my life bought them a minute,  and that's not nothing."


	4. Sick Sense

You know, when I dated Caroline, I knew that she was dying. It's like sick kids have this sense for one another, and we can tell our friends are dying long before doctors are willing to admit that they have lost control of the illness. I remember the first time I saw Caroline, she was by herself, a couple weeks after being diagnosed. By that time, the tumor was already affecting her personality, her everything. I remember when I would spend endless hours by her side, talking to her, and watching as she would inevitably say something that would be considered unacceptable in most, or all, situations. In the beginning, she was so embarrassed about the things she would say. She would apologize profusely, and then begin to cry as she mourned the girl she once was. I remember when her seizures started. I remember when she started to lose her memory. I remember when she would occasionally remember who I was, and I remember when she would get so frustrated with herself about the things she had no control over.  
I remember when she would get so frustrated that all she could do was scream. And sometimes she would throw things. Most of the time she broke what she threw. But for some odd reason it made her feel better.   
For whatever reason, I didn't care about the things she broke, or how important they were to me. I just cared about her.

Now Hazel, she does not get frustrated a lot. But when she does, she does this thing with her face, where she like scrunches it up real tight, and sometimes her nose twitches. It's a lot less ugly than it sounds. 

I don't have a lot of experience with helping people overcome their struggles. So I wasn't the most qualified person to handle Isaac during his meltdown. But I tried to comfort him in the only way that comforted Caroline. I let him go all hulk smash on my room.

I watched as Isaac kicked the shit out of my gaming chair, it would ocasionally do a somersault flip towards my bed seemingly looking for solace and rescue from me, and I would kick it back into the ring of fire with Isaac.

"Yes! Get it! Kick that goddamn chair." 

He kicked the chair until it stopped relieving him of his anguish. Then he moved for a pillow, that had the saying "There is something good in every day" embroidered on it, and smashed it against my wall.

I looked over at hazel, and sighed while shrugging impormotly at Isaac. She looked at Isaac , with an uncomfortable look etched in her features.

"I can't stop thinking about that book." I said winking.   
"I know right? " Hazel said excitedly.   
"He never said what happened to the other characters? " I asked wistfully  
"No." Hazel said defeatedly. "He moved to Amsterdam, which makes me think he is writing a sequel involving the Dutch tulip man, but he hasn't published anything. He's never interviewed. And he's too old to be online. I've written him a bunch of letters, but he never responds... So yeah."

Isaac was still thrusting pillows at the wall.

"Dude, pillows don't break. Try something that can break. " 

He smashed my last basketball trophy. He smashed my first one. And ever trophy in between. Golden basketball player bodies littered the ground, after witnessing their own personal affliction. 

I stepped towards him and looked down at his anguished face. "Feel better? " I asked  
"No." Isaac said defeated.   
"That's the thing about pain. It demands to be felt."

And good lord. We would inevitably feel the pain.


End file.
